


doubling back upon itself

by aphrodite_mine



Category: New Girl, Our Idiot Brother (2011)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Female Character of Color, Gen, Genderqueer Character, I Don't Even Know, Sartorial choices, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles in the same universe as Breadth (Julia from <em>New Girl</em> is the adopted sibling of Cindy from <em>Our Idiot Brother</em>).</p>
            </blockquote>





	doubling back upon itself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/gifts).
  * Inspired by [breadth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/464905) by [aphrodite_mine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine). 



Julia spends their thirteenth summer trying to convince Cindy that she's adopted too. While Valery sleeps in the next room, snoring through her summer cold, her hair braided tight against her scalp, Julia slips from her bed and into Cindy's. Their hands catch over the covers despite Cindy's grumbling. "I bet they saw us like this, holding hands, and couldn't bear to separate us," Julia says. Cindy thinks about the album of photos of Mom in maternity wear, of Valery's dark hands against their mother's dark-stretched stomach. She remembers, or thinks she does, the day Julia came to live with them. But she squeezes their fingers together and nods into her pillow. "I bet they did."

\--

For his fifth birthday, JT blows out the candles on a marshmallow-frosted cupcake and says "I want glasses like Cindy's, Mom."

They exchange a look over his head (he's used to it, he likes it) and Natalie smooths back his fawn-colored hair and tells him that his vision is fine. He should be happy.

He shrugs. He doesn't wonder yet why Mom is Mom and Cindy hasn't ever been Momma or Dad or something in between. She's Cindy. And her glasses are cool.

\--

They go to law school on opposite coasts, but on Tuesdays they talk for hours; Julia gasping and giggling through an hour of television, slapping her hand over her mouth when she almost spoils it for Cindy who waits, two hours behind. 

\--

"You promise this it's okay?"

Natalie rolls her eyes. "For the thousandth time, my delicate sensibilities are not going to be offended if we offer your sister a little meat for the biggest carnivore holiday of the year, Cin."

"Okay," says Cindy, but Natalie knows her well enough to know that until the word actually _sounds_ okay, it probably isn't. She slides her hand up Cindy's back, imagines the indentations of her fingerprints catching on the fine weave of Cindy's short-sleeved dress shirt. They are worn in, the two of them, and when Cindy leans back against Natalie's hand, it's easy to find the groove where they both fit.

"Julia said she'd bring enough wine this year," Natalie offers when Cindy's head is tucked under her chin.

"No such thing," Cindy answers, but it's better. They're warm.

\--

"This is weird, right? This is weird. I should go. I'm going."

Sometimes, LA is so suffocatingly small. Julia holds up her hands, slings her purse back over her shoulder and turns to leave the bar. It's not that she wants to. It's that this is _weird_ , and she really, really should go.

"It's not weird," says Cece (who Julia quickly works out must be the ex-girlfriend of the best friend of _her_ ex-boyfriend and who the hell calls people _exes_ anymore anyway). "I promise."

And something about the way she clutches her hands together just in view makes Julia believe it. 

\--

Valery raises an eyebrow. Mom will eat this shit up. Imagine the Christmas cards. She yells for Suzanne to turn her music down and hits reply. _Good for you, J._ , she types, pausing with her fingers over the keys. _I remember waking up for school and catching you two snuggled up in the same bed. I was so jealous. You thought I didn't know, you thought it was some big secret, but I felt like a weight had been lifted when you two quit that whole separated at birth shit. We were never three of a kind, I know that. I knew that. But it's silly to be jealous of my two straight-haired, queer-ass, lawyer sisters. Isn't it?_

She sits back, and on second thought, only sends the first line.

\--

On his thirteenth birthday, Jack Thurgood gets his wish. Of course, by then he's far more interested in contacts than in Cindy's sartorial choices.


End file.
